


Sexts From Last Night

by jinkazama



Category: Tekken
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Phone Sex, Sexting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-17
Updated: 2013-09-17
Packaged: 2018-02-10 04:03:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2010249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jinkazama/pseuds/jinkazama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Utter fluff. Set after King of the Iron Fist 5. After Kazuya leaves Lee hanging, they resume contact months later through the wonders of modern technology.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sexts From Last Night

**Author's Note:**

> This is completely ridiculous. Based on an idea I had while trying to write something else. It's pretty fluffy for this pairing. Sometimes it just has to be done. I've kept them in character as much as possible for this kind of thing.

Lee Chaolan gazed out over the city lights. It was late, and he’d just arrived off a flight from the Bahamas. Normally he loved New York and would be getting ready to go out, but he’d felt so drained lately. Sleep, normally so easy for him, eluded him even on his private plane. He yawned, turning away from the window. Ever since he’d left the fifth tournament, his life had seemed flat and dull in comparison.

It was difficult for anything to live up to the Tekken tournaments, with their riotous crowds, fighting animals and vicious battles. Even seeing Kazuya had been a disappointment; he hadn’t had a chance to fight against him this time. It was still a shock, really, seeing Kazuya alive and walking around – his numerous scars and red eye were terrifying. After twenty years of Kazuya being dead, he was back, and it had been hard to readjust.

The last time he’d seen Kazuya was at the fifth tournament. Lee had just discovered that it was being hosted by Jinpachi Mishima, and promptly resigned from his match against Paul Phoenix. He was in his private dressing room, preparing his things, and already planning his next move. Lee sat on a bench packing his things, tuning out the roars of the crowd from another match going on. He was already mentally miles away.

The door boomed open, and Kazuya stalked in. He was wearing a variation on his favourite outfit; a dark purple suit with a red silk scarf tucked into a matching waistcoat. The usual air of menace hung about him; Lee refused to be intimidated and stared boldly up at him. Kazuya moved close to him, invading his body space with his presence.

“You resigned.”

“Yes, I did. So?”

“You don’t want the Zaibatsu?”

“Of course, but not from that old man. Why can’t any of your family stay dead, anyway? I’d rather take it from you or Heihachi.”

“You wouldn’t have beaten me.”

“Well now you’ll never know, will you?”

Lee shrugged in a careless way, but he was watching Kazuya from under his curtains of silver hair. Kazuya looked down at him for a second, then dropped to sit on the bench beside him. He stroked a sleek tendril of Lee’s hair between his rough thumb and forefinger briefly. He had always loved to stroke Lee’s hair. It was one of his few endearing habits.

Lee didn’t move. Kazuya leaned over him to reach for something and took up Lee’s phone, forgotten behind him. He flipped it open and typed in something quickly, smirking. Lee heard a small beep from somewhere on Kazuya. Kazuya finished what he was doing with the phone and snapped it shut. He put the phone back where he’d found it and moved back slightly out of Lee’s space.

“What are you doing?”

“My number. You might need it.”

Kazuya dropped his right hand onto Lee’s firm thigh, squeezed briefly, dark eyes burning into Lee’s. His eyes took in Lee’s face, lingering on his lips. The hard mouth curved in a smirk, and he looked into Lee’s eyes again. Abruptly, he pushed himself to his feet, and left. Lee blinked.

The whole interaction had taken less than five minutes, but Lee still got angry thinking about it; Kazuya’s casual possessiveness, the careless way he’d touched him, how he’d been left burning with the fierce craving for his brother that had survived all these years. Kazuya was cruel, especially when he was being playful.

Lee had opened his phone, and had scrolled to the phone book. In the midst of his contacts, there were his brother’s name and number, just as he’d said.

He went back to the Bahamas after that, and buried himself in work. His engineers would bring him prototypes to look at and sign off, while he trained, and tried to forget all about his brother. For the most part, he succeeded. Work consumed him, and he was never short of company if he wanted it. Months passed and he never heard anything from Kazuya. Oh he thought of him, but the meeting in the locker room seemed like a dream.

Now he was in New York, looking out over the city with a brandy in hand, and thinking about it all again. Sighing, he flung himself onto a sofa under the window and stretched out. He was wrong to think of these things. Kazuya would continue to do whatever he liked, and it was pointless to linger on it. The brandy helped, warming his body and filling him with a pleasant fuzziness. Maybe he could sleep after all.

By his head, his phone vibrated with a text.

Speak of the devil. Lee flipped open his phone to read the message.

_Where are you?_

Lee’s face creased in bewilderment. Was Kazuya in New York…?

_New York. You?_

He watched the small screen of his phone, clicking open the reply as soon as it appeared.

_Tokyo. Alone?_

Now why would he ask a thing like that when he was on the other side of the world? Fucking tease.

Lee paused, biting his lip. Should he lie?

Before he could reply another message appeared.

_Well?_

Lee smirked. Kazuya had never been patient. Delayed gratification was for other people. He checked his watch. It was 11.30 in New York, which meant it was near lunchtime in Tokyo. What was Kazuya doing? Smiling, he clicked a response.

_Yes. Why? You?_

He was surprised to receive Kazuya’s next message.

_Good. I like to know you’re behaving. In the boardroom. Thinking about you._

Lee’s face broke into a proper, bright smile. Was Kazuya…

Another text arrived.

_What are you wearing?_

Lee actually burst out laughing.

_You’re such a fucking cliché. How did you write that without laughing?_

Twenty seconds later, he had his response.

_Don’t fuck around. Need a visual._

Quite. Lee looked down at himself. He was sure Kazuya would approve of this.

_Purple silk shirt. White striped dress trousers. Bespoke._

He wondered what Kazuya was doing. Of course, Kazuya could probably text through any meeting he liked – all the men in that room with him knew exactly what he was and what he was capable of. They’d paid to resurrect him, after all. He could probably make them shit themselves with just a flash of his left eye. He could probably fuck Lee on the boardroom table without –

His phone vibrated. As he suspected, Kazuya approved.

_Good. Take them off._

Lee could never resist teasing his brother.

_How will you know?_

The next response was even swifter.

_If you want to be fucked by me again, you will._

His breath caught. That bastard. It wasn’t as if he needed to stay clothed anyway. Quickly, he unbuttoned his shirt, and pulled his trousers off. He picked up his phone.

 _Done_.

His heart was beginning to beat a little faster. He sat back on his sofa and reached for his brandy glass.

Two minutes passed, then three. The phone vibrated and he snatched at it.

_Good._

That was it? Monosyllabic shit. Furious, Lee downed the rest of his brandy, ignoring the way it  
scorched his throat. What a fucking prick. He thought he’d fuck with Lee for his own twisted sense of humour, who the fuck did he think he was –

Another message.

_In office now. Was getting hard, so had to leave. Send a picture._

He hadn’t said of what, though, had he? Smirking, Lee sent a picture of his long fingers tangled in his gleaming silver hair.

Kazuya’s response was less than twenty seconds later.

_Nice. Wish it was my hand and your hot little mouth on my cock. You know what I want to see._

Lee’s cock was obligingly springing up between his legs. He snapped a quick shot, and hit send. Almost a minute later, Kazuya’s reply came. He could practically hear his satisfied purr in the message.

_Good, very good. Touch yourself for me._

Lee needed no prompting. He switched the phone to his right hand and curled his fingers around his cock, pulling his hand slowly up and down.

_So hard thinking about you. Are you touching yourself too?_

One word, five seconds later.

_Yes._

Lee smiled. He could picture Kazuya right now, wearing some ridiculous suit that cost more than a car, leaning back in his chair, blinds shut. His heavy-lidded eyes would be closed and his dark hair damp around the edges, as he stroked himself hard, clutching his phone with the other. The visual was hot, and he increased the speed of his fingers. A small moan escaped his lips.

Another message.

_Call me. Want to hear you come._

Kazuya answered immediately. His breathing was already quite ragged.

“I’m close,” Lee whispered. “Help me finish.”

Kazuya’s deep voice came down the line in a whisper.

“I’m going to find you. I’ll rip your fucking clothes off, then I’ll tie you up, and make you _beg_ for my fingers, tongue, and cock inside you. You won’t be able to walk when I’m finished with you.”

“You fucking tease,” Lee hissed, hand moving faster.

Kazuya laughed quietly, before his breath quickened. His voice was hoarser.

“I mean it. You’ll beg for me.”

“I look forward to it.”

Lee’s hand curled tighter around his cock, his mind filling with delicious images of his brother’s teeth and tongue and hands. He gasped as he came, phone clamped to his ear. As he lay back, covered in a light sheen of sweat, he heard Kazuya moan and grinned. Kazuya’s light panting filled his head. After all this time, he still sounded the same.

“I’m going,” he heard his brother say down the line, so far away. “Meeting in ten minutes.” Kazuya hung up without saying anything else.

Snapping his phone closed, Lee smiled, and lay down, closing his eyes. He didn’t even bother to clean himself off. Bathed in the bright lights of the city, he drifted to sleep after a while.

In Tokyo, Kazuya placed his phone down on his desk and ran a hand through his hair, which was falling loose. He reached into the drawer by his desk for the jar of extra-strength hair wax he kept there for such emergencies. After he’d finished fixing his hair, he cleaned himself off and straightened his clothes. He smirked, and pressed the intercom button.

“Get the plane ready for me,” he purred.

“The plane will be ready to leave in one hour.”

“Good. Cancel my meetings for the next week too. I’m going to New York.”


End file.
